


Heathens

by alottlehomo



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, but ezekiel becomes inhibited by a substance, but nothing happens, i mean technically it isnt drugs, its just for reference purposes and its completely safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7278265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alottlehomo/pseuds/alottlehomo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by 21 pilots "Heathens", and Ezekiel’s ever hidden back story</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heathens

**Author's Note:**

> listen to Heathens @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UprcpdwuwCg

_“All my friends are heathens, take it slow_   
_Wait for them to ask you who you know_   
_Please don’t make any sudden moves_   
_You don’t know the half of the abuse”_

  
      It was hardly important how he’d gotten here, he’d remember if it was. Not that he remembered much. He didn’t know what he did remembered and what he didn’t. Some dusty old library, some job or mission or something he wanted nothing to do with. It didn’t make any sense why he would take another job if he’d just left the M16. Maybe it had been longer than he was thinking, but everything felt so new, so fresh and present in his head. All the blood and ichor, the smell, his team. All gone. They’d never trusted outsider’s before and then the one time, the one time they’d chanced it… they were all gone.

  
     Ezekiel downed another drink, swallowing around the sting in his throat as the music thrummed on his skin and in his ears. He could dance the pain away, he could drink it away, lock it up tight and never think about it again. Deja Vu swept over him as he took another shot and turned towards the dance floor, slipping off his stupid, too hot, hoodie, letting his arms come free of the heat to embrace the muggy warmth of writhing bodies.

_“All my friends are heathens, take it slow_   
_Wait for them to ask you who you know_   
_Please don’t make any sudden moves_   
_You don’t know the half of the abuse”_

    He lost himself in the buzz, in the thrill, his thoughts getting lost in the swill of music and alcohol but he still felt unhinged somehow, unlocked, like he was more exposed than he should have been, than he could have been.  
    Ezekiel danced faster, feeling warm bodies press into him from all sides, his vision fuzzy and green tinted.

_“Welcome to the room of people_   
_Who have rooms of people that they_   
_Love one day, docked away_   
_Just because we checked the guns at the door doesn’t mean_   
_Our brains will change from hand grenades”_

     There was hollering, clammering, people pulling at his clothes and skin and he didn’t care. All the images were in front of his eyes, their bodies, his family, his failure, the evidence of it. Ezekiel lost himself in the push and pull of the bodies, clinging to strangers skin and sweat.

“You never know the psychopath sitting next to you  
You never know the murderer sitting next to you  
You think I didn’t get here sitting next to you  
After all I’ve said, please don’t forget”

    Ezekiel felt the wetness before he processed his own tears. Some part of him knew it had been too long for him to still be crying, but then why did it all seem so vivid? How could it seem like they were inches from his fingers as their breaths left their bodies, if it had been years?

_“All my friends are heathens, take it slow_   
_Wait for them to ask you who you know_   
_Please don’t make any sudden moves_   
_You don’t know the half of the abuse_   
_We don’t deal with outsiders very well_   
_They say newcomers have a certain smell_   
_You have trust issues, not to mention_   
_They say they can smell your intentions”_

     There are hands on him again, as he finally has enough sense to pull out of the swarm,tugging him away from the eye he’d created in the hurricane of bodies. He hears his name coming from a voice he doesn’t quite recognize, but he trusts it, as damn near ancient and old-fashioned as it sounds.  
   

     “Ezekiel, we need to get out of here.” the voice says, “ Jones are you even listening to me right now? Ezekiel!”

  
     The whole room is spinning in an instant or maybe it’s him and suddenly there’s a man in front of him, the one he assumes the voice belongs to. White haired, wrinkled skin, in a suit, with eyes that look like saw the world shaped and would have loved to lecture someone every second of the way while still making damn sure they survived.

  
     “You ate something. Dammit, you ate something!” the man cursed and Ezekiel swayed as he was tugged in for inspection. “How are you feeling?” the man demands, and Ezekiel blinks at him dumbly for a moment, trying to steer his fuzzy brain away from thoughts of how attractive this bloke actually is.

  
     “Quite fucking shitty. Swear I thought I got over, all.. That. Who are you?” Ezekiel slurred slightly, blinking again as the green haze got brighter for a second. “ You, you are attractive, is who you are. That’s important. I like you, or something. I don’t know. Who are you?” he rambled and the strange man got a progressively deeper furrow between his raised brows.

  
    “ We need to get back to the library.” The man says with an astute finality that Ezekiel doesn’t even think to question, just stumbling after him. He thinks he hears the man muttering about others and how they owed the man. “Easy mission, they said. Go in, shut down the shop, come home, they said. Idiots. Of course something had to happen. Of course /he/ ate something he wasn’t supposed to.” the man grumbled and Ezekiel wrinkled his nose, pausing in his steps.

  
    “Hey I’m not asking you to help me, don’t be rude. I can just go back and.. And..” Ezekiel paused, green overtaking his vision and suddenly there were bodies and Cassandra and Jake and Eve were dead and so was everyone else. He got his whole team killed twice over. So many times over.

  
     He blinked and the man was pulling him through a door to a place that didn’t look like it belonged in a club. A library or something with more books than he could count and just this cavernous feel that made Ezekiel want to run and find every nook and cranny and niche.  
     “Where-”

  
      “Zppt, shut it. Sit down and let me work. We’ll clear… whatever this up momentarily and you’ll know the answer to whatever tedious question you were about to ask.”

  
      Ezekiel snapped his mouth closed, plopping himself in the only chair, spinning in circles for a moment before moving to inspect something else, and then something else after that. He was headed for the stairs when the man seemed to grow tired of his wandering.

  
     “I said sit down.” He said sternly, and Ezekiel shuffled back to the chair, “ Drink this.” he ordered and Ezekiel didn’t question him, downing it in a single gulp only to choke and spit it back up in seconds, a strangely neon green liquid coming after it. The green tint flew from his vision quickly and he sagged in the chair, a hand he recognized as Jenkin’s coming to stroke his back after a moment. Ezekiel groaned lifting his hands to cradle his head, an intense throbbing building behind his eyes.

  
    “ Do I even want to ask what that was?” he gritted out, glaring at the cup Jenkin’s free hand brought up in suspicion. “ If that makes me throw up again I’m aiming for you, Jenkin’s.” Ezekiel threatened half heartedly as he took the cup, swallowing the liquid inside hesitantly, tensing as it worked down his throat. “ Oh thank god.” He practically moaned, sagging in relief as the pain in his head began to recede instantly.

  
    “Just Jenkins will do.” The older man said smugly, patting Ezekiel’s back gently, “ It was like I thought, one of the fae working the shop front of the club was slipping raskovnik into drinks.” Jenkin’s explained with a solemn nod, “ Ancient power, lots of slavic nations have stories about it, they say it’s some kind of herbal key, but really it’s just some kind of magical drug that pulls out all of your truths and secrets and lays them bare.” he sighs, “ I remember my run in with it, the after effects were horrible.. You should rest, Ezekiel. You’ll need it I’m sure. You seemed very… uninhibited by it’s effects.”

  
    Ezekiel nods after a moment, feeling drained but scared of his sleep with all that was dug up by this ‘herbal key’. “ I think I’m just gonna go watch a movie or something honestly, unwind a bit before I even think about it. What do you say, want to participate in the modern era old man?”

  
    Jenkin’s raises an eyebrow at him and Ezekiel hesitates, it would be just his luck that the older man would see straight through him _and_ call him out on it; he doesn’t.

    “I suppose I should, it’s been awhile since I’ve caught on with the times, I’m sure there’s a bit I could learn from modern cinematic features.” Is all he says, gesturing for Ezekiel to lead the way, so he does, settles on one of the libraries theater seats and makes himself comfortable and is maybe more than a little grateful when Jenkin’s sits directly next to him even if neither of them is used to the proximity.

  
   “ So, what are we watching?”

   “ Suicide Squad, mate!”


End file.
